


Porcelain

by sinfularry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Smut, Sooo Much Angst, Top Louis, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, but hes not a slut, everybody fucks everybody, harry is gonna cry, harry is just a baby, its a little fucked up if im honest, just give it a chance, louis is a drug dealer, louis is cause of harrys tears, rich kid au, sorry but i like it when he cries, theres so much sex idk, zayn sleeps with everybody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-18 09:13:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4700462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfularry/pseuds/sinfularry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry gets ruined. It's the drugs fault really, but Louis helps ruin him too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> THERE IS A LOT OF SEX AND DRUG USE IN THIS. SOME PRETTY DARK THINGS ARE GOING TO UNFOLD IN LATER CHAPTERS. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU WILL BE TRIGGERED.
> 
> (not so loosely based on the movie twelve)

Louis was late. Not that it really mattered all that much, but you know. Louis liked to be punctual, especially when it came to his work. And tonight was the night where he made the most money, so really, Louis probably should’ve left his flat a little bit earlier. But alas, he didn’t.

It was the weekend before Ellington Elite went back in session. Summer was coming to an end, and all of his ex-classmates had to get their fill. Their fill of alcohol because the warm, hazy feeling that they got was a lot warmer than the ice cold kisses they got from their mums, when she was on her way out, being sure to remind them that she put a little extra in their bank account. They had to get their fill of drugs, because getting fucked up was a choice, and when you came from a family like they did, you didn’t have many of those, so you made as many as you could, when you could, no matter how stupid, or what the consequences were. Nothing a little money couldn’t fix though. And, they had to get their fill of sex, because it was a great substitute for love, and it was nice to feel needed and important for something other than your name, or your legacy.

Louis made his way up a few steps till he was at the door of an enormous, lavish flat in one of the most prestigious and upscale neighborhoods in downtown London. Just as he was about to knock, the french doors flew open and he was face to face with a girl who was very wasted in the classiest of ways. Classy because she at least had the decency to tug her dress down to cover her arse.

“Your invite?” She asked, leaning against the door frame, and extending the hand that wasn’t holding her glass of liquid gold, ready to accept said invitation.

Louis rolled his eyes and fished about in the pocket of his trousers before placing a small baggy into the girls expectant hand.

Her eyes grew big before a smile fit for a minx graced her face. She slipped the baggy into the top of her dress before throwing her arms around Louis.

“Louis! We were all just talking about you, wondering if you were skipping out on Zayn’s end of summer bash! Glad to see you aren’t!” She winked before kissing both of his cheeks.

Now she remembers him, even without an invite. Coincidence or convenient Louis isn’t quite sure, and couldn’t really be bothered to care.

“That baggy in your top? 75 pounds, yeah?”

She was taken aback, but nodded hastily. “Of course, L.”

Louis was the one with an expectant hand now.

As he pocketed the money, he shrugged off his coat, draping it over his shoulder, taking in the scene. The scene that used to be his not too long ago.

When Louis’ mother died, a part of him died as well. The good part. The one that wanted to be a man that his mum would be proud of. The one that wanted to graduate from an elite university, and carry on the family business. The part that cared.

He dropped out of Ellington about 2 months after the funeral, and now he dealt to his former classmates. He himself didn’t do any of what he dealt, barley even drank, and only smoked cigarettes. He kind of liked being the only one in the room who could form a coherent sentence at the end of the night. He felt powerful, superior.

There were far too many bodies in the flat, and it was hot, and the music playing was shitty and overplayed, and Louis was so ready to make his rounds around the house, make his money, and get out.

He started cutting into conversations, not so politely, giving fake kisses to fake faces with wired eyes and messy hair.

“Louis!”

He turned from the boy he was talking to, to see his mate making his way over to him, a small but genuine smile easing onto his lips.

“Matty, hey. I got you something new.” Louis took his jacket off of his shoulder and reached into one of the inside pockets, and took out a bag that was filled with about 6 viles of clear liquid.

Matty’s eyes lit up with excitement. “This what you were telling me about on the phone?”

“Mhm, Porcelain. Its melted down coke, ecstasy, and crank. Gives you the best high, makes you never want to come down, makes you always come back for more. Its that good.”

“Because you’ve taken it, yeah?” Matty smiled knowingly at Louis, and Louis laughed lightly.

“I have sources who tell me its like floating, soft, and warm one second, and then the next your flying on pure adrenaline, fast, fast, and faster. It sounds nice, I almost gave in and took a vile for myself.”

Matty was sold. “How much?”

“1,000 pounds for 5 viles.”

“Damn, do I get the pal discount?”

“700 for you.” Louis gave Matty a friendly kiss on the lips, while he slipped the viles into his back pocket, and Matty did the same but instead of drugs, it was a few wadded up notes.

“Thanks, babe. I’ll give you a shout whenever I need more?”

“You have my number.”

It was only a few minutes before he had people coming up to him, asking for vile after vile, of the liquid happiness. Porcelain was going to be his new best seller, and once school started back up and everyone knew about it, it was only going to get better.

“Love, you’re taking my spotlight.” Louis heard soft, dark voice come from behind him. Louis turned to see Zayn.

Zayn Malik was by far the most beautiful human being Louis had ever laid eyes on. His hair was styled into a quiff, its impressive height courtesy of only the best products, from the best salons. His suit was the color of the stars, and the champagne he was drinking. It complimented his olive skin tone in the nicest way. Zayn Malik got everything he wanted, from all of the boys that wanted him. Louis knew that Zayn paid for not a single thing at this party, but charmed it out of his various guests. Zayn had a lot of boyfriends. A lot of people who wanted to make him happy. Louis wasn’t one of them.

“Sorry darling. The people want what the people want.” Louis shrugged, not caring at all.

“And what about what I want?” Zayn asked, feigned sadness in his voice. His bottom lip came out in a pout, and his caramel eyes grew wider.

“You don’t always get what you want, Zayn, as hard as that may be to believe.”

“I think you may be mistaking me for someone else, Lou. Because you and I both know that I always get what I want, one way of another.”

Louis hummed. “Is that so?”

“Why of course.” Zayn smiled devilishly at Louis, taking a few steps and crowding Louis’ space. Louis didn’t move away. “For instance, I wanted to throw a party in Liam Payne’s flat.” he casually looked at their surroundings. “Where are we Louis?”

Louis scowled at Zayn playfully. “Liam Payne’s flat.”

“Exactly.” Zayn chuckled to himself, as if he couldn’t believe he had pulled it off. “I also wanted an immense amount of only the best, sweetest champagne at this party. I wanted my guests to know what the stars tasted like, but I didn’t want to pay for it. Guess who payed for it Louis.” He didn’t give Louis a chance to talk. “Niall Horan.” Zayn pressed a soft kiss to Louis’ jaw. “I also want to kiss you, proper kiss you, and you’re going to let me.”

“How do you know?” Louis mused, placing strong hands on Zayn’s hips, subtly pulling him closer. He felt Zayn smile into his skin.

“Why, because you always do, my love.”

Zayn bit at Louis’ bottom lip before he even kissed it, and really that’s how things usually went with them. It was always sharp banter, and rough touches, before they smoothed each other out. Louis wasn’t like Zayn’s other boys. His other toys. Zayn respected Louis. He didn’t at first, tried to treat Louis like everyone else. But Louis was never one to be used, or bossed around. Zayn quickly learned that, and Zayn liked the challenge. Louis thinks that that’s why he and Zayn work so well. Why he lets this happen. Why he and Zayn always go back to each other.

“Lets go upstairs. Don’t want Liam seeing us. He thinks he’s having a go with me tonight.” Zayn whispers softly in Louis’ ear, nipping at it. Louis shivers.

“Is he not?”

“Maybe later.” _Maybe after you. You always come first._

“Best for last?” Louis whispers back, just as soft.

Zayn takes Louis’ hand and drags him upstairs. “I eat my dessert first. I’m not one to deprive myself of what I want, when I want it. Especially when I want something lovely.”  
Louis squeezes Zayn’s hand and wonders to himself if he would be able to love Zayn, if he tried. But he quickly realizes that they undoubtedly would end up destroying each other. Louis does a fine job of destroying himself all on his own. Doesn’t need anyone’s help.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Liam’s bedroom.” Louis hears the smirk in Zayn’s voice, rather than sees it.

“You’re going to let me fuck you in Liam Payne’s bed before you let Liam Payne fuck you in Liam Payne’s bed? You’re awful.” Louis pulls on Zayn’s hand and kisses him, laughing.

Zayn breaks the kiss, running down the rest of the hall, giggling to himself, and squeezing Louis’ hand, a silent gesture of _you make me happy_. They would never admit such to each other because in this world people don’t make you happy. Material things do. Money does. People are much too dangerous.

Zayn unlocks the door to what Louis assumes is Liam Payne’s room. As soon as they’re inside, the door is locked once again.

The room is huge, the color scheme grey and black. The bed is king sized, and one wall is a full aquarium. There is an animal skin rug on the floor. Louis may be slightly impressed.

“This is nice.” He mumbles into Zayn’s neck. Zayn sighs, running his hands through Louis’ hair.

Louis leads them to the bed and lays Zayn back, unbuttoning his suit jacket, folding it before setting it on a chair, because if he didn’t Zayn would’ve asked him too. This is his party after all. He has to look exquisite. Louis thinks he looks a bit more exquisite without any clothes at all, his tattoos on full display. But really that’s just an opinion.

 

~

 

Harry awkwardly stood in the corner of a house belonging to someone that he had never met, but heard a lot about. His knees were together and his toes pointed inward, as he absentmindedly played with his bottom lip, acutely aware of how young he was, how young he must look to every one who spared him a glance. Someone offered him a glass of what he was assuming was champagne. He declined, and cursed under his breath when the server was far enough away to not hear him. He wasn’t even old enough to drink legally.

Harry was smart. Like too smart for his own good. Smart enough to get into an elite university, that only accepted the best of the best, at the raw young age of 17. He would’ve gotten in even if his step father wasn’t the chancellor. Harry didn’t use his mom’s husbands name to get him anywhere. He didn’t like the kind of attention it gave him, and how many more fake smiles it got him, people only giving him the time of the day because they new he came from a family of immense wealth. None of that mattered to Harry. He didn’t even want to go to Ellington. He wanted to go to art school. He wanted to paint, make music, write. He wanted all of it. But his step father had other plans.

Harry scanned the room looking for his roommate. Harry had just met him this morning, Matty was his name. He seemed nice enough. Made Harry a cuppa when he sauntered into their dorm, that was closer to the size of a decent flat, after what Harry guessed was a wild night. He liked Matty because when he told him his age, Matty didn’t laugh at him, only raised his eyebrows to his hairline, pouring a little bit of unknown contents from a flask into his teacup, with a quite, “Good luck here at Ellington, because this is the biggest shit show of a school you will ever go to.” falling from his lips. Harry also liked that Matty wasn’t afraid to call Ellington a shit school, even after knowing that Harry’s step father was the one in charge. And Matty saying that he would kindly keep that bit of information to himself, was just a plus. Matty had persuaded Harry to come to this party. “Zayn Malik is throwing it. You know it’s going to be fucking mental if Zayn’s throwing it.”

With feet moving without his permission, Harry found himself in different room, that was even more full of people than the previous one. He took in everyone that he saw, skimpy dresses, and tailored suits clouding his vision as he searched for Matty’s familiar face. During his scan, he did a double take on someone. Not because he was dressed divinely, or looked like he reeked of money, but someone who looked like the opposite. He didn’t look dirty, or gross, or poor. But he didn’t look like everyone else here. He didn’t look like he belonged to this scene. But even despite his appearance, he was the one that was surrounded by all of the guests. A bunch of ugly moths, to a bright flame.

“Mate, I know you said you don’t do this shit, but you have to try this.”

Harry almost fell over when Matty slung his dead weight arm over his shoulders. He felt something tapping against his cheek and glanced down, seeing a small vile in Matty’s hands.

“What is it?” Harry asked, hoping that he didn’t sound too dumb.

“Porcelain. It’s new, but it only takes a couple drops to get you to where you want to be.” Matty leaned in and kissed Harry’s cheek sweetly. “Just try it babe.”

Harry smiled despite himself. “It’s okay, keep it for yourself… You look like you’re enjoying it.”

Matty closed his eyes and hummed, a small smile on his lips as he rested his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“So, uhm… Who’s that?” Harry asked biting his lip, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

“Who?” Matty looked around the room.

“Him.” Harry nodded in the direction of the boy he had been watching earlier. “The only person in skinnies, and a t shirt at this whole party.”

“Ohhh. That’s Louis. He’s a mate of mine.”

“Does he go to Ellington?”

Matty shook his head, and Harry tried to keep his expression neutral, consciously keeping his shoulders from slumping. Harry was hoping that someone else that didn’t care much about money or appearances went to Ellington.

“He dropped out about a year ago. But as you can tell, he’s still pretty intertwined into our circle. Especially Zayn’s.”

“As much as I’ve heard of this Zayn guy, I have yet to put a face to a name.”

“Don’t worry, you’re pretty and you’re new. Zayn will find his way to you eventually.”

Harry was about to ask what Matty was talking about, when he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. Harry turned around and felt a small gasp get caught in his throat. He was face to face with by far the most attractive boy he had ever seen. And the boy knew. He smiled, bashfully casting his eyes downward, his long eyelashes casting a soft shadow on his sharp cheekbones, a beautiful contrast.

The boy grabbed Harry’s hand and pressed his knuckles to his lips,lingering a hint to long to be considered just friendly and platonic. “Hello Love, I’m Zayn. Malik.” He added his last name as if it were an after thought. As if everybody already knew it.

“H-” Harry choked on his spit. He coughed before continuing, graciously ignoring Matty’s poorly hidden snickers. “I’m Harry.”

Zayn hummed, thumb running over the back of Harry’s hand. “Cute little cherub.”

One last kiss was placed on his knuckles, quicker than the first, but still lingering slightly. Zayn’s lips were soft, like rose petals, and when Harry glanced at his hand as Zayn walked away, a slight trace of spit shimmered on his skin.

“What the fuck was that?” Harry asked, eyes tracking Zayn’s movements.

Matty was cackling next to him. “That _little cherub_ was Zayn Malik.”

Harry swallowed, and watched as Zayn, and the boy from earlier, Louis, interacted. He saw them get closer, as if they were magnets. He saw Zayn’s lips latch onto the other boy’s neck. He saw Louis’ hands fall to Zayn’s hips. He saw Zayn lead Louis upstairs and he saw them kiss in the hallway before laughing and making their way to a room. He saw the door shut, and he thought he could almost hear soft laughs turn to soft kisses.

Harry hadn’t been aware that Matty was watching him until he heard him say, “This place is going to ruin you.”

Harry didn’t want to admit it, but he agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets a kiss. And he meets Louis Tomlinson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second part, sorry for the wait. I don't think there are any warnings for this chapter, but sorry if there's something that upsets you :( There is a bit of Matty/Harry action and I'm not sorry about it.

Zayn was 12 when he lost his virginity. He was 14 when he got drunk for the first time. When he was 15, he took his first drag. When he was 16, he did hard drugs for the first time.

Zayn is almost 19 now, and he has never been in love. He's never had sex with someone who he actually cared about.

Because when Zayn was 12, he lost his virginty to someone stole it from him. Because Zayn was just ' _so pretty, how could anybody not want to fuck him_ '? Zayn's almost 19, and he can't go a day with out at least a little bit of alcohol running through his veins, because when he was 14 he experienced it for the first time, and realized that it was an easy way to forget things he would rather not remember. At almost 19 years old, Zayn goes through almost a pack of cigarettes a day, because when he was 15, he took his first drag, and fell in love with the way his lungs burned, and how they felt so heavy, clouded with toxic smoke. Zayn turns 19 in just a few months, and he wonders everyday how much more ecstasy he would have to take for him to never come down again. Zayn is almost 19 years old, and he doesn't think he's ever really been happy. Zayn thinks that that is kind of sad.

Sure, Zayn has everything that anybody could want. He has more money than he knows what to do with. He has far too many people who want to please him. He's smart enough, and more than attractive. He has a nice car, and a hefty trust fund, he won't ever have to worry financially. So what more could he want?

Zayn takes a long drag of his cigarette, and coughs a little on his exhale. And he thinks. He thinks about what else he could want, what would make him happy. Maybe, he thinks, he wants to find someone who he wants to please, rather than use to get what he wants. Maybe he wants to know what it feels like to forget all the bad things, not with drugs or alcohol, but with the presence of someone he cares about. He kind of has that with Louis. But it's not the same. He doesn't love Louis in the way that makes things better. And Louis doesn't love him. They don't love each other. Not in the way that fixes everything. Loving Louis doesn't make Zayn feel like he could fly, and pick the stars out of the sky. It doesn't make him feel like there's more. Loving Louis doesn't make him want to exist. It doesn't make him feel alive.

And that's it, Zayn thinks. Being happy, is feeling alive. It's feeling like you never want to fall asleep because you might miss out on something grand. Being happy is never needing, or wanting, alcohol or drugs in your system, because that takes away the natural beauty of the world. Being happy is wanting to be alive, because you have something to live for.

Zayn snuffs out his cig, and leans against the rail on the balcony, of his dorm. He looks down, and sees his classmates walking. If he listens hard enough, he can hear distant laughter. He wonders if any of his peers are as happy as they makes themselves seem to everyone around them.

A small dove lands on the rail next to his hand, and he sees its little chest puff out as it takes a deep breath. Alive, he thinks. He watches as the little bird closes its eyes, a content little sound coming from the hallow of its chest, and Zayn thinks it looks happy.

Zayn closes his eyes, and wonders what it's like to be a bird. Free, and able to fly where ever it pleases. Zayn thinks that he would like to be a bird.

Zayn thinks that if he were a bird, he would be a caged one.

He doesn't like the idea of being a bird so much after that thought.

~

"You're shitting me."

Harry shakes his head.

"What do you mean you've never kissed anybody?" Matty near yelled at Harry.

Harry did not appreciate it in the slightest.

He shrugs embarrassed. "I don't know, I don't really have people lined up," He gestured to the space in front of him, lacking people who wanted to kiss him, "As you can tell."

"You're such a cute little cherub though." Matty said, his voice light, and teasing.

Harry rolled his eyes and flicked him off.

Ever since that night that Zayn called him a cherub, Matty has yet to relent on the nickname.

_"Little cherub, pass the cream"_

_"Little cherub, come on, just a few drops of Porcelain, then you'll really be as high as one of God's angels."_

Harry has yet to give into all of the offers of drugs he's gotten the past week he has been at Ellington. And he has had quite a few offers because Matty insists on them going out  
almost every night because Harry needs to get 'socialized'. He has given into the alcohol though. He may like the warm feeling he gets more than he cares to admit. But he was still doing well in all of his courses, so he didn't think it was that big of a deal, not really at least

"What are you going to do when Zayn asks to taste those plump lips of yours?" Matty inquires.

Harry's cheeks glow. "He wouldn't"

Matty smirks. "So naive. Of course he would. You're exactly Zayn's type. Young, too nice for your own good. Easy to take advantage of." He shrugs. "He's not like a bad person... He's just really good at getting what he wants, and he doesn't really care how he gets it."

Harry doesn't really know how to respond so he doesn't. He gets up and puts the kettle on the stove getting ready to make some tea. He thinks back to the way that Zayn's lips lingered on his knuckles, and wonders if it would really be that bad, being the one that gives Zayn what he wants. Like Matty said, he wasn't a bad person as far as Harry knew. Harry thought about how Zayn and Louis made their way upstairs to a bedroom like two teenagers, eager to find out what it was like to fall in love with a moment only for it to be forgotten when the sun rose.

"He wouldn't kiss me." Harry blurted.

"Oh? Why's that?" Matty asked, getting out two teacups.

"He's got a boyfriend."

"A boyfriend?" Matty laughed.

Harry was getting tired of Matty laughing at him, he really was.

"Yes, a boyfriend. That Louis, bloke."

"Zayn has lots of boyfriends. That doesn't stop him from kissing doe-eyed boys like yourself. And Louis doesn't do boyfriends. Even if he did, you wouldn't be his type."

Harry tried not to sound offended when he retorted with, "Well that's good because he's not my type either. I don't want to be his type."

Harry's brows furrowed.

"Careful cherub, you're going to give yourself a headache." Matty said, kissing his cheek as he grabbed the kettle off of the stove, pouring them each a cuppa.

They both sat at their dining table, and nursed their tea. Matty on his phone, and Harry thinking. Thinking about what it would be like to kiss somebody. Do everybody's lips feel as soft as rose petals? Would it burn if stubble rubbed against his cheek? Would he be able to run his hands through hair that was coated with expensive product? Would he get tipsy from kisses that were laced with sugary sweet alcohol?

"Matty... Will you kiss me?" Harry asked.

Matty raised his brows, and smiled softly. "You want little ol' me to be your first kiss little cherub?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah... I mean, yeah. We're mates, and I trust you to tell me if I'm shit at it or not. Plus you're fit so there's that." Harry babbled a bit, tugging on one of the ringlets by his ear.

Matty ran a hand through his hair, and raised one shoulder. "I mean if you're sure." He got up and walked over to the white leather sofa and patted the space next to him, "Well c'mon then, before the tea gets cold."

Harry rose from his chair and made his way over to Matty accidentally bumping his hip on the small dining table. He cursed quietly, and tried to ignore the small smile playing on Matty's lips.

When Harry sat on the couch, he felt Matty place a soft hand on his hip, his thumb rubbing gently rubbing over the spot he bumped. "You okay?"

"Yep." Harry said, quietly. He felt Matty put a little more pressure on the sore spot. His eyes fluttered, and he could feel his own pulse quicken.

Matty's tongue peeked out and wet his lips, his eyes keeping contact with Harry's for a moment before flicking down to his lips. "You're sure?"

Harry looked at Matty's lips, and nodded. "Yeah..."

Matty nodded, and moved a gentle hand to the back of Harry's neck, his thumb pulling slightly at his bottom lip, before leaning in slowly. His lips met Harry's for a short few seconds, before he pulled back just a bit. He brushed his nose against the younger boys cheek, almost asking if it was okay to continue. Harry puffed out a breath, and leaned back in, resting a hand on Matty's upper thigh. Harry's first kisses were eager, and sloppy, and messy. Matty pulled back, placing a quick sweet kiss on his lips, laughing fondly.

"Slow down, babe. Less tongue, more lips. I live in the same flat as you, you don't have to kiss like you're never going to be able to again. Let me lead okay?"

Harry's cheeks grew rosy, and he nodded quickly. "Okay, teach me."

Matty bit his lip, before leaning in again.

Once Harry got the hang of it, the kisses started out as soft, and barely open mouthed. The only sound in the room was their lips meeting, and quick accelerated breaths. Harry's timid hands curiously roamed his roommate's body. Matty gripped the curls and the nape of Harry's head, and pulled lightly, exposing more of his neck. He placed hot kisses to the pale untouched skin, and he felt Harry's hand on his thigh grip tighter, and he heard a soft moan fall from Harry's lips. The quiet preens only encouraged Matty, he applied more pressure and used his teeth to nip at the spot just below Harry's ear.

Harry was starting to squirm next to Matty, all the attention a little overwhelming, but so good at the same time. He felt Matty suck on his neck a little harder, and the thought of having a mark for people to see drove him crazy. Harry turned his head, hoping the Matty understood that he wanted more kisses. When Matty complied, Harry put his hands in Matty's hair, and rose to his knees, so that he was higher than him on the couch. He put a knee on either side of his hips, and rested his bum on Matty's lap, and he felt the older boy give a surprised grunt into the kiss.

Matty started to lay back against the couch, his hands a steady pressure on Harry's lower back, guiding him down in time with him.

"Am I doing better?" Harry asked quietly, his breathing heavy.

"Yeah... yeah." Matty said, not really able to focus on anything other than Harry's lips.

Harry smiled before kissing Matty's neck, alternating between soft nips, and heated kisses. Harry was so turned on, he didn't think he had ever been this hard before. Which makes sense because he had never kissed anybody before and it had just been him and his hand for the last 17 years, so when he felt Matty's hands grip his bum, he rolled his hips down against the guy under him, whining instinctively.

Matty groaned, and flipped them over so that he was hovering over Harry his arms extended so that their bodies weren't touching. Harry let out a startled squeak at the sudden change in position.

Matty was breathing heavily. "Fuck."

Harry's eyes were big, and frantic. His pupils blown. "What...?"

"We should stop."

"What? Why? I was doing so good. I could tell I was doing good, you kept like _touching_ me and making noises and stuff." Harry was pouting.

"Yeah. You were doing good. Really good. But that was your first time kissing somebody. You shouldn't go too far during your first make out session. You're just a baby."

"I'm not a baby." Harry said sitting up. He tried to not sound indignant while he adjusted himself through his pants.

Matty smirked, placing a chaste kiss on Harry swollen lips, before doing the same as he walked over to he table, sitting down, and taking a sip of his tea. "Are you going to the party tonight?"

Harry huffed. "Who's throwing it?"

"Zayn."

Harry's heated cheeks were answer enough.

~

The next time Harry saw Zayn, he hand his hand down some blonde guys pants. Harry was honestly just looking for a bathroom in the disgustingly large dorm room, and happened to open the wrong door. Harry had sputtered out an apology and hurried down the hall, hoping that neither of the boys knew it had been him who interrupted them by opening the door.

Harry was trying really hard to not be disappointed, but he had a feeling that he wasn't really doing a good job at it.

He was now in Zayn's dorm, and he felt out of place like he always does at the parties that Matty drags him to. But Harry always goes, hoping that he will see Zayn, but he's come to find out that Zayn doesn't really make appearances at parties unless he's the main guest or the one throwing it.

Harry poured himself something fruity, and walked around the dimly lit dorm, making sure not to bump into any of the people around him. He also made sure not to open anymore doors, unless he was absolutely sure he knew where it lead to.

He walked around the flat a few times, casually nursing his drink, and watching all the expensive people around him. He saw a girl shamelessly flirt with every guy that would give her a few seconds of their time. He saw a boy, dancing with a girl who was clearly trashed and not coherent enough to think straight, slip a few notes from the girls hand bag into his pocket before leading her in the direction of the bedrooms. Harry shook his head, and took a large swig of his drink, eyes landing on Matty, who was dancing dirtily with a tall blonde. Harry sighed and walked over to the kitchen, pouring himself another drink. _This will be my last one._ Harry's already had three since he's been here. Harry also says that a lot, but it never really turns out to be true.

Harry made his way out to the balcony and set his drink down on the marble ledge, absentmindedly hoping that it wouldn't fall off of the edge. Zayn's dorm was on the highest floor in the North Tower of Ellington. Harry heard that this was where the most wealthy of the legacy's boarded. He supposed it made sense, seeing that Zayn was the best of the best.

He leaned against the railing, taking a deep breath, the chilly October air making his lungs icy. He pulled down on the sleeves of his Burberry pea-coat and brought his hands to his mouth, blowing into them. He has been at Ellington for a couple months now, and he was still making his marks, and he had a few friends now. But he hadn't painted since he had been here. He hadn't clicked the keys of a piano since then either. The last poem he wrote was a month ago. Harry couldn't help but feel like the longer he stayed at Ellington, the more he lost himself. He tried not to think about it too much.

The buildings below soon became a mediocre scene to take in so Harry directed his gaze back into the living space of the dorm through the floor to ceiling windows, his eyes locking on the boy that was with Zayn that first night. He remembered him. Louis.

Louis was dressed much like he was that first night, the only difference being that the colder months had him bundled in a floral Adidas jumper. Harry admired the way the bottom of the fabric bunched slightly on the swell of his bum. His eyes traveled up his physique, and he smiled slightly when he saw that he had been caught staring.

~

Louis walked into Zayn's flat, unaware that there was a slew of people in it. Of course Zayn forgot to mention that he was throwing a party. Of fucking course. Louis figured that Zayn had probably made a conscious decision to not tell Louis because he knew that he wouldn't have come. They knew each other too well, but they both wouldn't have it any other way.

Louis internally screamed when people started coming up to him, not even 30 seconds after he walked in.

Luckily he brought some of his stuff, and could give everybody what they wanted, and then shew them away. A pill here, a vile there. Some baggys for the group in the kitchen. 30 minutes in, and he was already a few thousand pounds richer. He didn't need his trust fund. He was doing perfectly well all on his own.

Louis was talking to a boy with a short cut, when he glanced out the windows leading to Zayn's balcony. He saw someone that looked vaguely familiar. He didn't think he had ever spoken to him though. He watched as the boy's eyes traveled up his body before locking eyes with him. The boy smiled softly.

"Excuse me for a sec..." Louis said walking away from the guy, ignoring his protests.

He opened the french doors to the balcony, and walked up to the boy, who's eyes were sluggish. He could tell that he had had some to drink. Perhaps a little too much if the way he was teetering on his feet was anything to go by.

He took in the boys lean frame. He was taller than Louis, but his face was so much younger. The mop of curls atop his head did nothing to age his face. His hair probably made him look younger. The only thing that looked older and sophisticated was his wardrobe. Designer everything. Louis knew he went to Ellington just by looking at him. He knew because he was this boy just a few years ago.

"Hey." Louis said, "I don't think I've ever met you?"

"No, you haven't. But you're Louis."

Louis quirked an eyebrow. "That I am."

"Matty talks about you. Matty is my roommate, we kiss sometimes." The boy was nodding to himself as he was talking, his curls falling into his face, and Louis could hear the slight slur in his voice.

Louis chuckled. "Do you now?"

He nodded again. "But he always stops us, because he thinks I'm just a baby cherub, so I'm horny all the time."

Louis full on laughed at that, covering his mouth. "Are you a baby though?"

"Why are you laughing? It's not funny." He gave Louis an irritated look. "And no. I'm not a baby. I'm 17."

Louis raised his eyebrows in surprise. His previous assumption faltering somewhat at hearing how young the boy actually was. "Do you go to Ellington?"

"Mhmm." He took another drink.

"What's your name?"

"Harry."

"Harry?" Louis prompted.

"Yup."

"Do you have a last name, Harry?" Louis asked patiently, the boy was clearly not in the best state.

"Styles."

"Harry Styles... Cool name."

Harry hummed. "Yeah I guess. What's your last name?"

"I just go by Louis."

"I just go by Harry, but that doesn't mean that I don't have a last name."

Louis smiled at the boy, who looked at him with a borderline bored expression. "It's Tomlinson."

"Louis Tomlinson."

"Yeah, that's it."

"I like your name, Louis Tomlinson." Harry turned to face Louis, and walked closer to him. "You're smaller than I thought you would be."

"Well, thanks." Louis said subtly moving closer. He wasn't usually his type, but something about him, something about the way that he portrayed himself captivated Louis. Louis had a feeling that the alcohol in the kid's system was making him a bit braver, and bit more cheeky. Louis thought that if someone were to tell Harry how he was acting right now, when he was sober, he would blush, and apologize for his behavior.

"Small is okay. It's just that when I've watched you before, you seemed bigger, tougher I guess. You just carry yourself that way I think." Harry smiled. He took in Louis' features, dulled slightly, under the dim fairy lights illuminating the balcony. Louis had sharp cheek bones, and a strong jawline that was lightly dusted with stubble. Harry wondered if he preferred stubble, or if he had just not gotten around to shaving. His lips were thin, and pink. And when he smiled, it came off a little crooked. Harry looked at his eyes, and they made him sad. They were the nicest shade of blue Harry had probably ever seen, but they were so empty and dull. Harry must have been staring because Louis cleared his throat. "Oh, sorry." Harry giggled softly.

"What were you looking at?"

"Your face."

"Well yeah." Louis rolled his eyes, leaning heavily against the railing.

"I was looking at your eyes when you interrupted me." Harry said. The wind picked up, blowing his curls in his face. He puched them back with a large hand, and Louis' eyes tracked themovement.

"What did you think?" Louis asked flashing a cocky fake smile.

Harry looked at him with curious eyes. He looked as if he were debating whether or not to tell Louis the truth. "They're the same blue, as the ocean on the postcards that people send to someone that they care about when they tell them that they aren't coming back."

Louis swallowed thickly. "I-I've never heard that one before."

Harry studied him before shrugging. "Your eyes make me sad."

"I'm sorry?" Louis really wasn't quite sure what to say. He didn't like the answer that he got from Harry. He was a expecting a flirty response, and was in no way at all prepared for whatcame out of the boys plump lips, red and slightly chapped from the cold and the wind.

"You don't have to be sorry." Harry leaned closer, and placed a soft kiss onto Louis' lips. 

 _Chapped, but still soft enough._ Louis thought.

"I'm really _very_ intoxicated right now so don't take anything I say or do too seriously. I'm not usually like this, Louis Tomlinson."

Louis watched as Harry walked back into Zayn's dorm, and saw Zayn looking at him through the window, he had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Louis had a feeling that Zayn had been watching for quite some time, and that that probably wasn't such a good thing. Zayn was the closest ting he had to family, but he was smart enough to know when to watch his step around him.

Louis pulled out a cigarette, and tried to not think about Harry Styles, and how he already looked at him as more of a person than people he has know for years. He looked a little too deeply, and made Louis feel a little too vulnerable, but he thought that maybe being looked at and actually being _seen_ was better than being looked at through eyes jaded by money, material things, and drugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it, please leave kudos, and comment what you thought, feedback really helps :) The story is really coming together in my head, and I am so excited to get it all written and for you all to read it, so please stick with me!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn is sad. Louis is sad. Harry is happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back :) I figured out how to link things into the text so that's exciting. There wasn't much to link in this chapter though. Uhm, there aren't any warnings in this chapter, but you do get to see the different sides of Zayn when he's with Louis. I'm not sure how I would describe his personality. I don't want to say it's split personality, but I guess it could have similarities with that. THIS IS A LARRY FIC. I'm sorry there's so much zouis/zarry right now, but its all just character building, and story build up. Harry and Louis will come into play more soon, I promise!

"If you were one of my boyfriends, would you prefer to be called my 'toy' or my 'pet'?"

It had been about a week since Zayn's last get together, but it had only been about 30 minutes since it last crossed Louis' mind. Green eyes, and hair just curly enough to look lovely, always on a constant loop in his mind. _"They're the same blue, as the ocean on the postcards that people send to someone that they care about when they tell them that they aren't coming back."_ Louis sighed deeply and tried to push the thoughts, and words too insightful for his liking, out of his head, directing his attention to Zayn.

Lounging shirtless, all of his beautiful ink art pieces on full display, in just a pair of grey sweats riding low on his hips, Zayn lay lazily thumbing through a magazine, his [All Saints sunnies](http://www.us.allsaints.com/men/accessories/allsaints-codeine-sunglasses/?colour=3960&category=657) perched gracefully on the bridge of his nose.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses inside? It's mid-October and you live in England."

Zayn waved his hand in dismissal. "Focus Louis. This is important."

Louis rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't want to be one of your boyfriends to begin with."

"Awe, babe. Don't be cruel. You know I would treat you so nicely. Like the most precious gem, the brightest star in the sky." Zayn pouted his lips and blew Louis a kiss.

"Yeah, until I was no longer useful to you. That's how you treat all of your boyfriends."

"I'm not a slut." Zayn said quickly.

"I know, Love." Louis smiled softly at him.

Everybody in downtown London knew who Zayn was, and that he had lots of people who liked him, lots of boyfriends. They knew that every week, the parties that Zayn threw were paid for by someone new. They knew that Zayn's hands held a couple too many others. They knew that Zayn's lips were very social, and liked meeting strangers. But they also knew that Zayn wasn't a slut. The slender, caramel-eyed boy never let anybody talk about him and his boyfriends without letting them know. Whether they believed him or not was a different story.

"Why do you have so many anyway?"

"Because I like making people happy, and people like making me happy."

"But are you really happy?"

Louis saw Zayn go ridged next to him, for just a split second before he went back to inspecting the current article he was reading. Louis already knew the truth. Zayn knew that he knew, as well. But that didn't stop the lies from sneaking past his teeth. "Yeah. I am happy."

Louis walked over from his lounge chair, and over to Zayn's. He turned down the telly that was on, mostly for background noise. He took a seat at the foot of Zayn's chair, and rested his palm on his friend's ankle. "Don't you think that one person could make you just as happy as all of the others?"

Zayn raised his glasses into his hair, so that Louis could see his eyes. He smiled sweetly, but his eyes didn't crinkle. "You're the only one I would want exclusively, and you won't give me the time of day."

"Don't be silly. We would be toxic." Louis chuckled, before looking down, his fringe falling into his eyes. Zayn always said these kinds of things, liked seeing if Louis would take part in his games, but Louis was smarter than people gave him credit for.

Zayn cleared his throat, "So, pet or toy?"

They exchanged a look of mutual humor before Louis responded. "I would think that they would prefer pet. Like at least pets are alive, and you take care of them. You just use toys till you are done with them."

"Toys would probably be the most accurate term..." Zayn hummed, before winking at Louis. "But we don't have to tell them that."

"If you want them to keep spending their trust funds on you, then I wouldn't." Louis laughed, before declining a fruity drink that was offered to him by one of the Malik's cooks.

"Mmm, yes please." Zayn made grabby hands at one of the fancy drinks, before sipping it, and humming delightfully. "Always delicious, Mary. Better than usual, this one." He raised the glass to an imaginary toast.

"Can I get you anything else, sir?"

Zayn shook his head, and gave her one of his genuine smiles. Louis' heart grew warm. Everybody thought that Zayn was amde of money, and didn't care about anything else. But Louis knew better. He was one of the lucky few that got to see Zayn like this.

"So who do you have in mind now, hmm? Is it somebody I know?" Louis asked once Mary was out of ear-shot.

His thumb was rubbing light circles into the bone where Zayn's ankle met his foot.

"You do know him." Zayn mused.

"Who is he?" Louis smiled coyly up at Zayn.

He placed a gentle kiss to his ankle, before moving to his thigh, clothed in his soft grey sweats, a rare occurrence for Zayn.

"Promise you won't be angry." He placed his hand in Louis' fringe, when Louis slotted himself between is legs, laying flat on his tummy, legs bracketing him in.

"Never mad. Never at you at least." Louis' lips attached to the thin skin near his hip bone, his teeth biting quickly. He smirked when he heard Zayn hiss.

"Mark me," Zayn pulled Louis' hair until he heard a hum in response, and felt his kisses get more aggressive.

"You'll tell me if I get you off?"

"Perhaps."

Louis crawled up from Zayn's legs, and rested his arms on either side of Zayn's head, his fingertips palying with his jet black hair. Zayn smiled at his shyly, and Louis smiled back, before shaking him head, laughing softly. "You're much too beautiful for all the boys that you let touch you."

"Not you though." Zayn's thumb ran across Louis' cheekbone.

Instead of responding, Louis brought his lips down, and kissed Zayn. He kissed him like what he said didn't make his stomach turn. He kissed him like he didn't know how Zayn really felt. He kissed him like he could make it better, even though he knew that every time they touched, and every time they kissed that he was making it so much worse.

"It's Harry..." Zayn said suddenly.

Louis' lips stopped on his neck. He pushed himself off of Zayn, just sitting on his hips.

"Harry?"

"Yeah... I want him now."

"Why? Why do you want him?" Louis tried to keep his voice casual, but he could hear it go slightly higher in pitch.

"He's so young. He's only 17 did you know that? And he's so innocent. I-I'm not sure really... there's just something about him. He would be easy to mold. "

"There are so many other boys that want you."

Zayn gave Louis a suspicious look. "Yeah... But I want him. I thought you said you wouldn't be mad."

Louis fished for a response, his mouth opening and closing, trying to find words. "I-I'm not. He's just... not your usual type."

"But isn't he?" Zayn hummed. "Young and eager to make people happy. To make _me_ happy. I see the way he looks at me, shy, but curious. But don't worry, Lou. I see the way he looks at you too. I saw you kiss. Are his lips as plump and soft as they look?"

Louis wanted ask what Zayn meant about the way Harry looked at him, but he went still at the tone of voice Zayn used. He was in one of his moods. The ones where he went cold, and said hurtful vindictive things, just because he could, and because he knew that they would cause the most damage. Louis didn't want to respond, but he knew that if he didn't, he would just get talked at, and the words would become more harsh, and horrible. Louis didn't let people talk to him the way he let Zayn. But he knew that Zayn didn't mean any of the things he said, he didn't mean it when he taunted Louis. Louis knew Zayn was just sad, and he didn't know how to deal with it in any other way, than to make other people sad as well. Louis loved Zayn, so if Zayn needed Louis to be sad to be happy, then Louis would be sad for him. At least Louis knew how to be happy too.

He swallowed, before his voice spoke through, softer than usual. "Yeah, they're soft."

"I knew it." Zayn smiled. "We can share the pet."

"Why would we share him?"

"Because I would rather you tolerate me for sharing, than hate me for taking something that you won't admit you want." He sipped his drink.

Louis shifted on Zayn's hips. "I don't want him."

Zayn scowled at him, with a devious smile dressing his lips. "Alright. We can play this that way if you'd like." He set his cup on the side table next to his chair, before gripped Louis' hips hard enough to leave a bruise. But that was the point. Zayn liked getting marked by Louis, and he like marking him. Louis shivered, Zayn's fingertips still cool from his icy drink.

"I don't want him, Zayn. You can have him."

"You may not want him now, but you will. You'll want him when everybody else does. You'll want him when I make him into what I want him to be. When I make him lovely."

The thing is though, Louis already thought that Harry was lovely.

Zayn gripped the back of Louis's neck and pulled him down, their lips just barely touching. "Now lets make each other feel good."

 

~

 

Harry was sitting at the desk in his room when his bedroom door slammed open, and he jumped, knocking his course work to the floor.

"Fucking hell, Matty!"

"Sorry mate, but you wont fucking believe who texted me about you." Matty said, flopping himself onto Harry's king sized bed. "You're bed's so much nicer than mine, more fluffy."

"I have an extra foamy thing." Harry shrugged, picking up all the papers off of his ground.

"Anyway, guess who was asking about you."

Harry went through all of the people that he has talked to in the last few days, but he didn't think that any of them would have Matty acting the way he was. He saw sad blue eyes when he closed his eyes for a second too long, but he refused to entertain them, opening his eyes quickly. "Dunno, who?"

He kicked his booted feet over the edge of Harry's bed and walked over to said boy. Matty clapped his hands on his shoulders, and lowered himself so that he was talking into Harry's ear. " _Little cherub._ Zayn fucking Malik texted me about you."

Harry turned around so fast that he thought that he may have pulled something. "Don't fuck with me."

"I'm not, I'm not I swear." Matty held his hands up in mock surrender. "Here look at the texts." He patted his pockets looking for his phone, before pulling up the messages.

Harry snatched the phone, eyes scanning and re-scanning the message.

_Matty. I've not got Harry Styles' number. I'd like to get in touch, and I see you and him around quite often. I'd like to get coffee sometime soon. Tell him to shoot me a text. Cheers, Love. Xx._

"What the fuck."

"I know! I fucking told you you were his type."

"I don't know how to get coffee. Tell him that."

Matty gave Harry a borderline expression. "Don't be a baby. The most beautiful boy in school, maybe the whole world, wants to take you out and get coffee with you. Why would you not go?"

Harry rubbed his temple, before fluffing his hair. "Maybe because I'll make a fool of myself?"

"Just be yourself, you're quite likable. Charming little bugger you are." Matty kissed Harry's cheek. "And your kisses are so sweet, he could never say no. You'll make _him_ the fool... Besides I already said that you would text him tonight."

"Fuck you."

Matty made his way to Harry's door. "I'll text you his number, Baby."

When the door shut, Harry placed his head in his hands, and wondered why he wasn't as excited as he thought he'd be upon hearing that Zayn Malik wanted to get coffee with him. Harry got back to his course wok, because when his eyes were closed, and his palms were digging into them, he didn't see black, but blue.

 

~

 

It's nearing 9 o'clock at night and Harry has yet to receive a text from Matty with a certain someone's number.

He's laying in his bed clad in just his black Calvin's, his feet crossed at the ankles, and his hair still damp from his traditional Friday night pamper bath, LUSH bath bombed always included. He looked down at his belly, and saw light traces of glitter in the soft lines of his abs. He ran his fingers lightly over the bumps, smiling at the tickles. He startled slightly when he heard his phone buzz on his nightstand. He reached over a nabbed it up quickly, sighing when he realized it was just Cara from English asking if she could borrow his notes on Monday. After replying with a quick 'yes', he pulled up Matty's contact.

 

**Soooo**

 

_Yes precious?  
_

 

**Are you gonna send me his number or what**

 

_Ohhh, so you **do** wanna text him._

 

**Shut up.**

 

The next message from Matty was the number with a slew of inappropriate emojis. Harry graciously ignored the emojis. He brought up a new message, and carefully put the number in. Then he just stared at the black typing space, trying to conjure up something to say. He settled on a simple:

 

**Hey, it's Harry Styles. Matty said you wanted me to text you.**

 

He debated on adding some x's because Zayn had used them when he asked about him. He bit at his cuticle, his thumb on the other hand alternating between hovering over the 'x' and the 'send' button. He typed the 'x' twice and sent it without giving himself time to rethink it. He gingerly placed his phone on his white duvet. He grabbed a throw pillow off his bed and began to pluck the little white feathers out of it, counting each one to pass the time. He got to 12 before he felt his phone buzz, but he plucked 8 more for good measure before looking at the message.

 

  _I did want you text me. Are you free Sunday babe? I want to get to know you more. X._

 

Harry giggled. He pulled his lower lip into his mouth, biting it to try and suppress his smiles. His thumbs typed fast.

 

**I am. Where did you want to go?**

 

_There's a small cafe that I know of. Very posh. I'll pick you up at 11._

 

**Alright, sounds amazing. Can't wait :)**

 

Harry watched as the little typing bubble appeared and disappeared a couple times before a text actually popped up.

 

_Sleep well, Harry. Xxxxx._

 

Harry sent back two x's, and put his phone on do not disturb, setting it on his nightstand.

 Zayn sent him so many kisses. Harry felt stupid, getting so giddy over just a few x's but he had never been the type to receive those, and definitely not from someone like Zayn. Someone who could have anyone at all, the very world at his fingertips. Yet he picked Harry, and suddenly Harry didn't feel quite so stupid. He felt wanted, and lucky. All the warnings about Zayn tried to creep into his thoughts, and all the images of him with other boys were persistent, but Harry just focused on how soft he remember Zayn's lips were on his knuckles. He thought that maybe if he played his cards right, he could feel those same soft lips, on other parts of his body. Secret parts of his body.

Harry's fingers gently ran over his bare tummy, taking up some of the left over glitter. He shivered and looked down at his body, goosebumps sprouting causing his hair to stand on end. It wasn't the first time that Harry got hot thinking about Zayn Malik, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but having him be the one that was sought out gave Harry a new sense of want. He wanted Zayn to always ask people about him. He wanted Zayn to text him all day, and send him secret messages at night. He wanted Zayn to think about him all the time. He wanted Zayn to be in the same position that he was now. Laying in bed, his olive skin covered in chills, with Harry on his mind.

The room was getting warmer by the second, and Harry could feel his body getting tingly. He looked himself over, following the glitter trails to the downy patch of hair that led into his briefs. He grasped the bulge in his boxers over the fabric, and ran his thumb softly along it, coaxing himself to his full length. He pushed his briefs down, lifting his bum off the bed when the went over the swell of his bum. His cock lay hard against his lower belly. Harry took himself in his right hand, and used the fingers of his left to tease his tip, spreading precome over the head. He sighed, content, a small smile on his lips. He pressed the tip of his finger a little harder into the slit, gasping. He brought his fingers to his lips, and licked at them before he reached over to his nightstand and opened the small drawer, a grabbed a bottle of lube, 3/4 full. He popped the cap a drizzled some directly on to the tip of his cock, hissing at how cold it felt. His right hand coated his dick, and glided effortlessly, while his left hand was at his mouth, his teeth sinking into the thin skin on the back. He pressed his heels into the bed and lifted his hips to meet his hand, as he tried to stay quiet. he took the hand at his mouth away, and palmed him balls, he moaned deeply, and turned his head into his shoulder. Harry's eyes squeezed shut, and his mouth parted as his breathing started coming out in higher pitched whines rather than steady breaths. His hips started to mouth faster, and the muscles in his tummy tightened with each movement.

Harry brought the hand palming his balls up to his hair, and pulled. He tried to focus on the dull, pleasant pain. He felt a spurt of precome drip from his tip into the soft hair of his groin. He was getting close, he could tell by the way his insides felt like they were on fire in the best of ways. He pinched at his nipples, while he tightened his grip on his cock, his hand flying faster and faster over it.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me..." Harry chanted quietly, as his body tensed.

His free hand flew up to his mouth as his body trembled, and hot shots of white painted his torso. His body shook with his orgasm, and his shouts were muffled and quieted by the hand on his mouth. Harry gave himself a few more strokes before he whined at the sensitivity, taking his hand away from his red, softening cock. He went back into his nightstand and grabbed the little pack of wet wipes, taking a few out before placing it back in the drawer.

The muscles of his stomach jumped at the cool sensation of the wipe. He cleaned himself and wiped his hands before putting the lube back and throwing the wipes in the waste bin.

Harry crawled under his duvet, not bothering to put his briefs back on, and let out a groan and ran his hands over his face. He pushed his hair off of his forehead, and checked his phone. He had a few notifications, mostly random emails, and a few texts, including a cheeky one from Matty. He also had a few new followers on Instagram. He snuggled in and opened the app.

Zayn had found him and followed him, and so did Louis Tomlinson.

Harry but his lip and clicked on Zayn's feed first. It was all black and white, and mostly pictures of himself, but who could really blame him. Harry followed him back.

He then went to 'louist91'. He saw a colorful feed full of may different things. There were picture of Louis with friends, and what Harry assumed were his sisters. he also saw a few pictures of him playing footie. Harry thought that he looked really nice in his football gear. Harry followed him back as well.

He locked his phone again, and rested his head on his pillow. He closed his eyes, his wank making him sleepier than he would normally be at this time of night. It was only 10:30 but Harry could feel is limbs getting heavy with tiredness. He wondered why it was still blue that he saw when he closed his eyes, instead of black.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please leave kudos, and drop a comment :) I love hearing what you have to say, and the feedback really helps me!

**Author's Note:**

> hiii, so i hope you liked this, i haven't posted on here in forever, but if you liked this and would like for me to continue please leave some kudos, and drop a comment telling me what you think!
> 
> also this was not beta'd bc i do not have a beta so all mistakes are mine i apologize in advance.


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